Holympics

Of course I have to do an obligatory Olympics post.

So, I was a swimmer. For 10 years. My best events were the 200 fly, 500/400 free, 800 free, and the mile. These are brutal, brutal events. Watching Michael Phelps fling himself through the water at 20 mph is easy. Having done it God-knows-how-many-times, I understand his pain.

All those glowing, sickening profiles don't get to the real heart of Phelps. Nor do any of the pieces about the other swimmers. (Wait, are there any pieces about the others? I mean, I love Phelps and all, but I feel for the others.) Swimming isn't just about winning. Thrashing that annoying flyer from Lake Highland is great, but that's not the only reason we get up at 4 a.m. three days a week (if not more). That's not the only reason we push through those two-hour practices that threaten to break our will.

We do it to beat ourselves. To beat the clock. Even if you haven't won 9 gold medals, that's the real goal. So for people to be annoyed with Phelps' reaction after the 200 fly is ridiculous. He didn't do what he really wanted to do. He was disappointed. I would have felt the same way--and I have.